


Without Feather Ado

by ACatWhoWrites



Series: #BoKuroo Week 2019 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, BoKuroo Week, BoKuroo Week 2019, Boyfriends, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 07:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18384272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: The theory among their friends is Kuroo goes along to Bokuto's tattoo appointments because he likes to see him in pain.





	Without Feather Ado

**Author's Note:**

> day five - tattoos

For as covered as Bokuto Koutarou is in ink, the general assumption is his boyfriend’s gotta be just as tatted.

But he’s not.

Kuroo Tetsurou hates needles with vehement passion.

Bokuto knows this, and he respects this, but he still thinks Kuroo would look incredibly hot with this jaguar on his arm. Or these leopard rosettes up his ribs. Or those wings on his shoulders and back.

“No, Bo.” Kuroo sits on a nearby chair in the tattoo and piercing parlor, chin on his hand supported with an elbow on the knee of the leg not clutched by his excited sweetheart. “This is your thing. My thing is your pain, remember?” Early on in their relationship, one of their friends had made some crack about them going to the tattoo artist together but Kuroo only watching and never having anything done. “You make the cutest sounds when in pain.”

The artist, Sawamura Daichi, listens with half an ear. He’s used to the banter but worries that Kuroo may say something too mean. The dark-featured man seems to enjoy getting a rise out of people, including his sensitive boyfriend.

It seems like, for the most part, Bokuto is too dense to pick up on that, though, and takes the words at face value.

“Just to be sure,” Sawamura says, “this is what you want, right?” He flips his sketchbook around, showing the fully colored owl. “It’ll curve around your forearm around its shoulders. If,” he adds, more to himself, “birds have shoulders… But you still like the way it fades out with the dark color. You don’t want the full owl?”

“Yep. It looks amazing, Daichi! I wish I could draw. Or, well, draw _well_ , because I can draw like a toddler high on candy and soda.”

Sawamura nods, pulls the page from the book, and pushes his chair back to a large copy machine centered beneath a framed doctorate diploma to print a stencil on carbon paper. While it hums and works,he returns and reaches for the box of disposable gloves on his cart. A third one sticks and is pulled out, falling to the ground. He tosses it into the garbage.

“So how long is this gonna take, Daichi?” Bokuto asks brightly. His fingernails pick at the inseam of Kuroo’s jeans.

“As long as it takes.” The artist brandishes an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and disposable razor. “If you hold still, it’ll go faster.”

Bokuto isn’t very adept at staying still. He’s been an athlete since he could walk, putting in more time on the court than on regular ground. Even asleep, he rolls and twitches and throws his legs around.

The copier finishes printing as Sawamura deems his client’s arm is hairless and smooth. He uses a stick of deodorant to transfer the image, carefully pulling back the paper to reveal the purple-ish outline.

Once the inks are poured and tubes and needles placed in the tattoo machine, Sawamura places a cup of distilled water nearby and opens a container of ointment. “You ready?”

Bokuto nods, a little less enthusiastic when faced with the needle. He’s always like that, preparing for the worst pain ever.

Kuroo pats his boyfriend’s arm with a rather sinister smile. “Make him writhe, Daichi.”

“Kuroo, that’s mean!”

Sawamura grins softly. Poised over Bokuto’s arm, he reminds him, “Don’t hold your breath. First minute or two will be the worst of it.”

Kuroo looks away when the needle starts to work. Stabbing one’s flesh repeatedly with a foreign substance that white blood cells identify as bad is not his idea of a good time. He’s content with the temporary tattoos from his friends’ younger siblings or the henna one of his high school classmates dabbled in for a while. Those are fine. Painless, except when trying to remove the temporary tattoo and it gets gummy, pulling at hair.

It’s incredible to him how Bokuto can return time and again for bigger and more complicated pieces. He wears them well, though. They’re an expression of passion, from the simple gesture figures of a body leaping for a spike to the solid black cat making a heart with its tail. This owl will be his first color tattoo, and Sawamura mentioned it will take longer than others have in the past.

An hour into the session, Bokuto is getting restless. Sawamura can feel the shift of muscles and lifts the needle for his antsy client to readjust.

“Are you done, yet?” There’s a recognizable bird, but it’s largely featureless.

“You mean you can’t see it, Bo? Such a pretty bird.”

Bokuto frowns, lower lip pulling to a pout. “I just mean it’s taking a long time!”

Sawamura brings the needle down in a slow arc, following the edge of the owl’s maybe-shoulder. “This could take five hours or more. I don’t have anyone scheduled later, if you want to take your time and make a day of it. A shorter session means coming back.”

It’s not the answer he’s hoping for, but he’s not allowed to slouch and move his arm, so he drops his head to his shoulder, seeking a little sympathy.

Kuroo offers a pacifying smile. “You wanted this, Bokuto. You can suffer a few more hours.”

“You really do enjoy my suffering, don’t you?”

“One hundred percent, yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> In Japan, only doctors can legally tattoo. Regardless of who does the work, anyone with tattoos is pretty much a social pariah in public. They're too closely linked with the yakuza, so places like bath houses will bar people with tattoos from entering. (I assume unless they're known to be yakuza, in which case you just let them be, for safety's sake.) If they can be covered, lovely. For the sake of aesthetic, Bokuto's owl is on his forearm. I think his beefy biceps would make it look too strange.


End file.
